Who will remember our time when we are gone

"what are future generations gonna say about us?"
don't ask yourself this question too loud
(they'll say nothing. live for you, live for now)


so many people
are living and burning
but cannot breathe
and cannot livingly
burn like a candle
whose light is perfect
in the darkness of the night

think of
music that hums in a low tone
rumbling - the sound of art and rain
the sound of silence
and love move
back and forth through a tunnel
where we lose control
and are sad
and sorry
for the rain that made us fall.


but
somewhere
there is trust
when your eyes are closed
like lips that kiss in mist
of sprinklers in the park
summer mornings where birds are
white with orange feet

here,
have no illusions
assholes populate every part of this earth
on both sides of this screen
in your home and mine
but sometimes we are good
and graceful and we give
maybe we can remember that time
when it is gone.